


Marked

by Elucreh



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elucreh/pseuds/Elucreh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the process of making peace with Lily, Sirius learns about communism. Communism ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> With all due thanks and respect to _Lord of the Flies_, all the Bruno and Boots books (but especially Mr. Wizzle!), "Long Live the Rabid Squirrels!", and Karl Marx. Also to my requestor, Dolly Pancakes who gives awesome prompts. Also to my beta, temptress though she is.
> 
> **Prompt**: _MWPP era. Everyone thinks Remus is behaving suspiciously about something._ Further prodding for details added: _The Communist Manifesto, by Karl Marx, a flag from the old Soviet Union, and a Muggle newspaper._ For the 2006 Reversathon.

**Firelight flickered over the ancient tapestries and soft chairs of the Gryffindor common room. A terrible hush had fallen over the house members as they turned to look at the boy who had just spoken. Of them all, he was the only one standing, and even so, he barely came up to the chin of most of them. **

"Wouldn't've thought that titchy little first-year had the guts," one of the sixth-years murmured to his friends. "Never would've said anything in front of him..."

********************************************

"But no, listen--"

Remus looked at him severely. "Sirius Aedelbert Black, I have no intention of listening to another word you say until you confirm that your past ten minutes of conversation with Lily were completely free of insults, and in fact resembled polite interaction in every possible way. You promised James you would _try_."

Nearby, Peter looked up briefly from his essay, but shook his head and returned to his work without speaking.

"No, I swear, I was a perfect gentleman--"

"Then why did she just roll her eyes and go upstairs?"

"Because she says I have no concept of the far-reaching consequences of practical politics and the intricacies of human nature."

Remus raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And what brought _that_ on?"

"Hey, you lot." James finished climbing through the portrait hole and came to plop down in the chair beside them.

"James! Evans just gave me the most _brilliant_ idea!"

"She is _off-limits_, Padfoot, I _mean_ it--"

Sirius assumed an injured expression. "Why does everybody always assume the worst? We had a perfectly civil conversation about Muggle politics and she gave me an idea."

"_Muggle politics?_" Peter's head came up sharply as all three of them spoke at once.

"Yes. There's this brilliant thing going on in Russia—I told you, didn't I, that my mother's second cousins have all been chased out and they're living with family in France now? Apparently it's 'cause of this 'communism' thing."

"Communism?" James raised an eyebrow. "What is it, how did it drive out your extended family, and how many colours do your boils turn?"

"No, it's—it's this whole _ideology_. It's a whole new way for the world to work! Everybody shares everything, you see, each according to his own needs. You pool all your resources and then it's allotted out. I think it'll be brilliant."

"What do you mean, _will be_ brilliant?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"We're going to try it, of course!"

James and Remus suddenly found themselves avoiding one another's gaze. Peter scratched his temple with his quill. "Try it?"

"The four of us! Together! Living in a communal environment!" Ignoring his friends' amused looks, Sirius stood up and flung one arm wide, declaiming, "Are we not all brothers, bound together by House and by friendship, by prank and by liquor? Are we not equals, sharing and sharing alike? Are we not friends, capable of trusting one another with our lives, let alone our worldly goods?"

James was laughing now. "And what worldly goods would those be? It's not as though you haven't already got my Charms notes in your bag."

"Everything!" Sirius waved his arm expansively. "Money! Notes! Books! Chocolate! All gathered together into a pot, to be shared out according to necessity and justice! Let us be _red_, the strong, bright, true, glorious _red_ of Gryffindor and communism!"

"Black, would you mind terribly if I asked you to take your soapbox somewhere else?" Marlene McKinnon asked, half in real irritation. "I've an essay due tomorrow, and unless you've radically changed your study habits, so've you. Bugger off!"

"I forgive you, McKinnon, for your insensitivity to the glories of the coming world—you have not yet come to a full understanding of the wonders that lie before us. Your time will come. And, anyway, you're right—I've not written a word of that essay." Sirius nodded to the small crowd he had attracted during the course of his speech. "But one day all of you will come round to seeing that the way of the Communist is the way of truth and light and happiness for all the world!"

"Sirius—" James stood up, and shoved him. "Go upstairs and write your essay."

****************

**The child's dark eyes were wide with terror, but there was a stubborn set to his chin as he faced the Committee. **

"Nonsense!" Sirius insisted. "I know who can be trusted."

*****************

"Are you _still_ on that?" James demanded, three days later, when he came into their dorm room to see Sirius sprawled on his bed, paging through a copy of _The Communist Manifesto._

"Seriously, Prongs, this is interesting—and the man is on the right track here. What don't we share, anyway? Am I not free to purloin your Invisibility Cloak whenever the urge strikes me? Doesn't Pete eat all of Remus's chocolate?"

"And one of these days, Pete is going to get a hiding for it," Remus muttered crossly, drawing a fierce line through a sentence in his History notes.

"But we could organise this...just for a lark! Aren't you _bored_ yet, Prongs? We haven't done one single truly interesting thing since we finished the map."

"That," Remus interjected, "is because the map was a superhuman effort and we are still recovering from it. I nobly fail to mention the fact that some of us are _not_ geniuses, and will fail our NEWTs if we do not buckle down, because I know it will be ignored anyway."

James, however, was looking thoughtful. "How does it work, exactly? Just throw everything into a big pile and say, 'take what you like'?"

"No, no, no. It has to be _organised_...each according to his needs. You've got Evans to sneak about with, and that supersedes most things, so you get the Map and the Cloak unless one of us can show a valid reason that we are more likely to be shagged than you are." James laughed. "And Moony gets a bigger cut of the chocolate round his Time of the Month, cause he needs it."

Remus looked up with a half-smile. "You could almost persuade me to join in, with an argument like that."

A knock came at the door, and the three of them turned to look, puzzled. "Come in," James called.

When the door had creaked open, three third-years stood in the doorway. "We wanted to ask you something," the tallest of them offered, looking at Sirius.

"Go on then," he said, easily.

"We're having a little trouble," the blonde one offered. "It's Paul, you see...he just won't join in with the rest of us. We're all in, share and share alike, the whole bit, but Paul's just being stubborn. Of course we want to join in the brave new world, but how can we when a sixth of the dorm room's still stuck in the bad old days of capitalism?"

Sirius blinked for a moment. "Wait...are you saying that you've started your own communal regime, but one of your dormmates won't join in?"

"That's it," the little one said, looking relieved.

"And you want my advice on what, exactly?"

"On getting him in, of course!" The three of them were beginning to look a bit exasperated. Sirius and James exchanged a grin. Remus, without actually drawing attention to it, quietly reached over and untied the cords keeping his bed curtains open.

"Well," Sirius drawled, "I always think that the old silent treatment is the best method of making someone want to be included. You can always move on to something more aggressive later, but it's a good start, and you should never start out harsh with a friend."

"Right." The tall one nodded crisply. "Thanks. Be seeing you." He turned and left, the other two trailing after him.

James raised his eyebrows at Sirius. Sirius's mischievous grin flashed back.

Remus, who had been peeking through the split in his curtains, groaned mentally and went to hide his head under the covers.

**************************************  
**"I think," Sirius said, rising slowly, pale angry face a stark contrast to the enormous flag hanging behind him, "that if anyone would know who can be trusted in this tower and among the followers of this Cause, it would be _me_. Especially in this particular case. And when you have been proved wrong you will be _left crying in the dust of your mistakes_." **

He walked over to the little first-year, who was nearly trembling with fear, though still stubborn-chinned with his knowledge that he had done what was right. Sirius planted a hand on the lad's shoulder and turned him toward the boys' staircase. "Let's see if we can find any evidence, _shall we_?"  
  
***************************************

The seventh-year girls—well, excluding Lily—had joined in for a laugh. Lily herself had been dragged in by James, protesting all the way. The third-years accounted for most of the rest of the tower, actually...Paul Fenwick had begged to reconsider after the second day of the silent treatment from his roommates, and all of them had at least one brother or sister at another age level.

Remus noted with apprehension that the real trouble was the kind of power it was giving Sirius. The little third-years worshipped him already, of course...Quidditch skills and a habit of speaking in lordly and ridiculous ways had already paved the way. But, as instigator of this movement, he held the money and chocolate in trust, to be apportioned out, and was consulted in cases of reluctant recruitees or those who were holding out on the pot.

It was a little too easy for him to get drunk on the power. A little too easy for his "punishments" to escalate to truly serious and potentially harmful deeds—one little fifth-year, who'd been black-marked for putting the money her parents sent her into a toad bank, had spent a week in the hospital wing after her enchanted music box exploded, making her sing "John the Worst" out of tune.

As the days passed, the rituals of pooling and then divvying up their resources, as well as of hearing of the day's crimes and apportioning consequences, grew more and more elaborate. Sirius was forced to organise a committee to handle all the details.

Each night, just before lights-out for the younger students, he would sit in judgement, flanked by the members of his Committee, thick fur hat on his head, an enormous flag patterned after that of the Soviet Union hanging behind him. Each night the accusers would stand and announce the crimes they had witnessed.

Each night the accused would wither and grovel before the ever-colder eyes of Sirius Black, who knew how to be fanatically devoted to a cause.

It was a month before the whole thing came to a rather melodramatic peak: a small and insignificant first-year, skin shining in the firelight, standing to righteously denounce one who was not truly loyal to the cause, one who had been seen to be hoarding away a precious commodity--

One who was known to be close to the inner workings of the Committee itself.

It had long been rumoured...there were whispers everywhere...but none had dared to let the murmured accusation reach the ears of the Committee and its fur-topped leader, much less dared to make an open accusation in court. None until Kingsley Shacklebolt, reckless in his devotion to the cause.

_"A store of private chocolate has been seen near the bed of Remus Lupin."_

************

**The rest of them followed in an awed silence as Sirius led the way to the seventh-year dorms. Inside, Remus lay on his bed, quietly reading one of his novels. Peter, on the bed next to him, was scribbling frantically at an essay that was already three days late, though he sat up and shoved it behind him when he saw the crowd. **

"Remus," Sirius said, quietly. His entourage winced. "I'll have to look for something."

"Go on, then," he replied, agreeably. "What's with the circus?"

"They're witnesses," tiny Kingsley announced.

"To what? Sirius, you promised that you'd _avoid_ witnesses if you decided to set the room on fire, not haul them alo--"

Sirius's sudden stillness made him break off, and raise one eyebrow inquiringly.

"There is a stash of chocolate here," the leader of the Great Gryffindor Communistic Movement announced, slowly, as though trying to wrap his head around the idea. Remus blinked, owlishly, and opened his mouth to speak.

"What's all this, then?" James asked, loudly, elbowing his way into the room and looking annoyed at having found his hallway and room filled with all of Godric's children between the ages of eleven and eighteen.

"Yes, honestly, have you decided to move your ridiculous meetings to an even more ridiculous locale in the hope that some of you will _come to your senses_?" Lily demanded, following in his wake and, presumably, cross with having her romantic mood interrupted. "It's ridiculous to ask any human being to work towards the common good without reward. It's ridiculous to set up a _system_ and ask a group of people to be loyal to it. It's ridiculous to hand a cache of all material goods to one person and trust him with it. It is, however, _especially_ ridiculous to put on a fur hat and then crowd several thousand people into a _dorm room_."

Sirius stared at them for a moment and then laughed, a little shakily. "She's right, you know," he told his guests. "Their children are going to be horribly common-sensical and intelligent."

"Quiet, you," she snapped, blushing, and snatched the hat from his head. "Silly of you to heat your head up when the whole house is following you home...it's like an oven in here."

"Tell you what," he offered, snatching it back and then arranging it on her head, "it looks better on you. Want to lead the community?"

"Thank you, I will," Lily replied, with great aplomb. "And my first order is, all of you, _clear out_. Go back to the common room and recover your property and _get on with your lives_. Grades have been dropping and we're last in line for the House Cup."

They muttered and mumbled, confused and a little resentful, but it was clear the fever had dispersed a little, and the crowd did too, fading away to their own haunts. Little Kingsley stood there, still, his supporters drifting away. "But--"

Sirius laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "You'll learn that all things pass with time, my son," he said, gravely. "From regimes to rhubarb, all things are no more than their allotted space on this planet. You did well, and I commend your courage."

Shacklebolt looked up at him with wide eyes. "I did well, sir?"

"You did." Sirius gave him a sweeping bow. "Now off with you...find something nasty to do to a Slytherin."

"Yes, sir!" The boy grinned and ran out the door.

"If every little boy and girl in Gryffindor grows up with the attention span of a hyperactive flea, we'll know who to blame," Remus remarked, returning to his book. "What they're learning from you...trust your friends, torture all Slytherins, and blind yourself to all larger truths."

"I am a man of simple and unwavering principles at heart," Sirius told him, grinning as he dug around for his own book and settled into bed.

James and Lily crawled onto his bed and closed the curtains, casting a silencing spell. Remus and Sirius turned pages, peacefully. Peter finished his essay with a sigh of relief, and flicked the last traces of chocolate from the parchment.

**Author's Note:**

> Extra special, very amazing note: This story was remixed by daphnaea for the 2007 RemixRedux; [The Red and the Black (the Neverland Remix)](http://remix-redux.livejournal.com/25363.html) is something so far beyond the original that it blows the mind.


End file.
